


For Granted

by Bandearg_Rois



Series: Writer's Block Medley [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 750 Words to Say, A little more than that, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF!Stiles, F/M, M/M, The Alpha Pack, Well - Freeform, What is Season 3?, and tagging, because I'm bad at deadlines, not sure where this came from, which is okay, which is why my tags suck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-29
Updated: 2013-06-29
Packaged: 2017-12-16 14:04:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/862855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bandearg_Rois/pseuds/Bandearg_Rois
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Alpha Pack isn't in Beacon Hills for a friendly chat, or anything remotely civilized. And Stiles is caught at Ground Zero. He's a squishy human in a decidedly non-squishy group with a decidedly non-squishy pasttime. He's also the one they all call, the one they rely on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Granted

**Author's Note:**

> So I discovered '750 Words to Say', and I decided to give it a shot. This was written on sleep deprivation and caffeine, so if it makes no sense... Blame it on the drugs. Kidding. Don't blame it on the drugs, since there aren't any (there totally are).
> 
> Anyway, I figured I'd write a series of these, since writer's block sucks, and I need to get back on my game.

He wasn't sure why he didn't just wash his hands of all the supernatural bullshit; Scott had told him already that he could, that he could practically abandon the one person who has stood by him through literally everything. Which was literally the last thing he would choose to do. Granted, he could do without the constant threats of death and dismemberment, mostly from 'the good guys', but he was part of it whether he really wanted to be or not.

So he kept his window unlocked, and his laptop charged, on the off chance that he would actually be needed. It wasn't until he received a text from an unknown number about a month into summer vacation that he remembered the old adage: be careful what you wish for.

'Get the first aid kit ready.- DH'

Stiles promptly panicked and then settled; there would be time for a freakout later. He dug his first aid kit, which was actually an ambulance trauma kit, out from under his bed and lugged it down to the kitchen before replying to the text.

'Back door. dad's on patrol but neighbors are nosy. boiling water, do i need the other kit?'

He put the stock pot and a saucepan on the stove and filled them from the pipe next to it, turning the burners on to start them boiling before setting out the supplies that he'd hoped never to use, forcing the panic to the back of his mind. Before he could work himself up about it, the door burst open, admitting Derek and his Baby Betas. Isaac was the only one able to move on his own, while Derek was the only one who looked unharmed, though his shirt was torn and blood-stained.

"Holy shit! Okay, who's hurt the worst?" he muttered. Derek lifted Erica's limp form a little, and he nodded. "Put her on the table. Wait; Isaac, get Boyd into a chair. Upstairs, in the linen closet are old sheets and towels. Get them. Quickly." Isaac levered Boyd into a seat and fairly flew up the stairs. Derek started growling low in his throat, and Stiles just gave him atired look. "Quit it, Sourwolf. We don't have time for this posturing bullshit."

Before Derek could reply with something pithy and insulting, Isaac skidded back into the kitchen, arms piled high with linens. Stiles immediately grabbed the sheet and spread it over the table. Derek gently laid her down and stepped back, allowing Stiles to look at her injuries. "How likely is she to wake up while I'm working on her?"

"She didn't wake up when I broke her arm; you're good for about an hour. She just needs--"

"Shut up. She could have a seizure any moment. I need to get her stable." He'd bugged his dad until he was allowed to audit a couple of the trauma classes that the deputies had to take, so he basically knew what he was doing. Despite what he'd just said to Derek, though, there wasn't much to do but clean out the wounds and wait. The smaller ones were already closing, but the largest ones were still bleeding sluggishly; he needed that water boiled. Fast. Isaac jerked away from where he leaned against the counter near the stove as both pots abruptly boiled over.

"Whoa!"

"Stop freaking out and bring me the little one. Someone tear up a towel." He didn't care who obeyed; he had the water and the towel quickly, and he immediately started cleaning her up. Once the worst of the blood and filth were cleaned away, he could see see that the larger wounds were starting to heal from the inside out, so he turned his attention to Boyd, who was barely conscious. "How you doin', big guy?"

"Not... too bad."

"So if we jumpstart you, you'll be able to finish up?" At the boy's nod, he turned to Derek, who stepped forward, giving Boyd a surprisingly reassuring look before neatly snapping his forearm. Stiles appreciated Boyd's attempt to be silent, but he wasn't surprised when a low bellow of pain escaped. All of the scrapes and bruises and claw marks started closing up immediately, and Stiles handed Derek a clean piece of towel and the rest of the water in the saucepan. "Clean up what's not closing immediately, he can take a shower in a little while." He turned to Isaac. "What's wrong with you?"

"I'm good. I broke my own arm on the way back, I'm almost finished healing up."

"Okay, what was wrong?" Isaac sighed, and ran a hand over his head, his fingers coming away with tacky, drying, blood. "Concussion?" At the nod, he pulled out the flashlight from the kit. "Follow the light. Humor me," he ordered gently when Isaac huffed, and Derek growled from where he was still wiping down Boyd's back.

"...Fine." Stiles wasn't convinced that he was okay until Isaac finally snapped his jaws at him, genuinely impatient. Derek growled louder, closer to the roar he'd made when Isaac was a new beta, and Isaac shrank back again, though he didn't look particularly scared. Stiles gave a sigh of relief and started packing the kit back up, bagging the dirty, bloody pieces of towel, and dumping the dirty water down the sink.

Erica sighed and woke slowly, which made his heart clench and relax. She didn't make any other moves, but Derek's shoulders fell from their hunched position as she gained more consciousness and reaction.

"Hey, Catwoman," he said softly, brushing dirty hair away from her face. "You feel up to movin'? Gotta get rid of this sheet, huh? When you're steadier, you can take a shower, all right sweetheart?"

"... Shower... A God, Batman," she finally murmured, though she still winced when Derek picked her up, even though he was obviously very gentle with her. Stiles got rid of the sheet and then wrapped his arms around Isaac, who suddenly looked like he was going to break. Boyd leaned against them, even though his eyes were beta gold, and it obviously made him uncomfortable to be so close to other people.

Stiles was just glad that at least the two missing Betas were okay, and that he didn't have to deal with anymore bodies. He didn't like dealing with those; one was way too many, even though he knew he'd probably have to deal with them someday, probably soon.


End file.
